


High Hopes Low Consciousness

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [36]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), High Hopes Low Rolls (Web Series)
Genre: (how lovely), (whoop whoop), Blood, But today is not that day, Canon-Typical Violence, Delirium, Fever, Gen, I just wrote it, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Infected Injury, Poisonings, The rest of High Hopes is there but they don't really show up, Vomit, also I'm not going to apologise for any tears that may come as a result of this no sir...personee, am going to make some once I finish uploading this piece of crap, and now for my bacon, have fun with that until I’m back, just a note Denial Malark is based off of me, like legit when my ace and probably touch-starved and touch-averse self, like no thank you i will suffer in my bi/pan/person-loving anonymity, my brain will occasionally go "that person is cute you should ask them out", no I am not going with that person for hot chocolate i will pass out before i talk to them, oh look I pulled a rick riordan, okay tws are done, one day i shall date once more when the dating pool can handle my disaster writer-mess, references to Bay Hollow, sees a person that I think is cute, too lazy to fix it I just want bacon honestly and I', tws for:, you clicked this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25482298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: Paddy is infected with something that is poisonous to elves, wood elves in particular. While members of High Hopes  scramble to find a cure or an antidote, or just anything that can help, he’s being watched over by Malark, Gwing, Torlin, and Rook. To say that things take a turn for the worst would be an understatement.[Part one of two. There are important notes before and after the fic, and please read the tags.Oh, and just remember—you chose to read this.]
Relationships: Nothing else really - Relationship, Paddock "Paddy" Whitlaw & High Hopes
Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692196
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	High Hopes Low Consciousness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BubbleDramatically](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubbleDramatically/gifts).



> A thing for BubbleDramatically (who found the og on tumblr):  
> You saw all the tags. Exits are located conveniently throughout the fic on your website setup. If not…you got yourself into this and I apologise for nothing.  
> Now, let’s jump into this fic, why don’t we?

It was just a little cut, really.

A tiny little thing. Barely the length of his finger. And yet…he had a feeling something was _wrong_ somehow.

_I’m just overreacting,_ he mused, wrapping a bandage around his arm and then frowning at the slash in his shirt. It had come from a simple little dagger. They had been ambushed by some now-dead bandits on the side of the road and everything had turned out fine. Nagar and Gimgar were currently getting washed off outside by order of the innkeep. “No blood on my floors!” The woman had declared, shaking her head. At some point, she had clearly been an adventurer herself. Behind her on the wall hung a massive, polished and sharpened double-sided axe. It wasn’t exactly a tiny thing, either.

Getting up, Paddy took his cloak and jacket and hung them on the rack by the door. The empty pegs where Malark’s stuff was meant to be were both empty. Presumably, the assassin had gone downstairs to “grab something to drink”. If Paddy knew him well, and he was pretty sure he did, Malark was sneaking off to check whether or not the bandits were _really,_ properly dead or if any of them had gone crawling off to some hole or other. He could do what he wanted, Paddy was sure he could handle himself.

Malark seemed like he could fight pretty well, anyways.

Walking over to the bed, Paddy paused and leaned heavily on the footboard, frowning. The world spun around him, black dots dancing in his vision. Although he wasn’t sure why, he had the sudden need to sit down. But he was fine, nothing was wrong with him.

He was perfectly alright.

Nothing was wrong with him.

+++

Something was wrong with Paddy.

Malark noticed it the moment he got back from making sure the bandits were really dead. (They weren’t all, one had been crawling away to go die in some hole or other. Malark had finished him off pretty quickly and found some gold and silver for it, which was pretty good. They needed a new healer’s kit.) They were all sitting in the local tavern, grabbing something to eat. And something just…seemed off about the wood elf. He seemed a little pale.

_Or maybe he’s just always been like that?_ Turning back to his food, Malark stabbed at it with a frown and glanced up at Paddy again. Then it struck him. _What about his eyeshadow? Did he just not want to wear it today? But he always wears it._

It wasn’t like Malark could bring that up though because that would mean he was staring at Paddy’s face and that wouldn’t do because no he wasn’t staring at Paddy at all. Nope. Not him. Definitely not…looking at the wood elf at all. Nope. Not him.

He must have spaced out wondering what the heck had happened because all of a sudden the others were getting up.

The conversation didn’t kick back up until they were in one of the rooms. He didn’t remember whose in particular, until he saw the cloak hanging on the rack and realised it was his and Paddy’s. _Oh my gosh we’re roommates._ Glancing over, he held back a sigh that could have been relief or annoyance and even he wasn’t sure which. _And there’s only one bed because of course there is. This sounds like a bad romance novel. Except less…random smut scenes._

The others started talking, and Malark was quickly distracted by Paddy. The wood elf was swaying back and forth beside him. At first, it wasn’t all that noticeable, just some slight movements. Nothing to worry about, really. But then…he got significantly _paler._ And not in the way he sometimes did when he was scared. In the way that got a slight…greenish cast to his face?

All of a sudden, Paddy surged forward, coughing into his hand. Immediately, any one of them could tell something was wrong. “Paddy?” Grabbing his shoulder, Malark turned to look at the others. “Something’s wrong. Torlin?”

“I’m fine—I’m fine—” Paddy was obviously _not_ fine, he was wheezing the words out painfully and clawing at Malark’s arm just to stay upright. Legs shaking, he made as if to stumble towards the door. “Feels…weird. Think I…just need some air…” It was a good thing that Malark stayed right behind the wood elf. After two steps, Paddy’s knees buckled and he feel backwards with a soft groan.

“Paddy!” Malark grabbed him, instantly felt heat rolling off of him.

“What happened—” Before anyone could think of what else to do, Gwing darted forwards and grabbed Paddy’s ankles. Nodding at the bed, she helped Malark manoeuvre him over.

“Torlin, see if you or Ava can figure out what’s going on and how to fix it. Malark, stay right here and make sure everything’s alright. Rook, come and get me if anyone needs help or send Zenya to do it. Gimgar, Nagar, with me.” Turning, the half-elf stalked out the door, Gimgar and Nagar right behind. Both of them glanced back at Paddy, and Malark let his gaze drift to the wood elf’s face as well. Even for his usual pale complexion, Paddy seemed to be even whiter than the bedsheets beneath him.

_What happened to him?_

+++

His throat was on fire.

He was bleeding flames from his mouth, he could feel them running hot and sticky over his lips as his blood and heart burned from the inside out. Burned and burned and burned…like Bay Hollow. Bay Hollow—what happened? Where was he? Who were these people?

“Hey, hey, you’re alright.” One of them, a masked man, said. Weakly, Paddy batted at him with a hand—he had a mask on, Paddy didn’t trust him. A vague memory of the same icy eyes staring at him as the man tried to kill him flashed in front of him eyes.

“—‘ck off, leave me alone.” Shoving at them again, Paddy felt his hand get taken in theirs as he tried to sit up. He was pushed back on the bed. “Stop…it.” They were trying to get his shirt off them. “Hey, no. That’s…not cool, not ‘ol, leave me…alone.”

“We’re not going to hurt you.” The guy who he was pretty sure once tried to kill him said. Everything was burning and all Paddy could see was icy eyes and hot hands touched his skin and he jerked away with a yelp. “No, no, it’s okay. Torlin, what can we do?”

“Uh…” A softer, brighter voice trailed off. “Rook, get some soaked washcloths. Malark, help me get that shirt off of him, he’s overheating. Oh, and Rook, maybe get him some water, too? We should try and get something into him.”

The world swirled as something was held to his mouth and he turned his head away. “It’s okay, Paddy, it’s okay.” A third voice said, wavering between too close and too far for him to actually realise where they were. It was too hot in the room but why was he freezing and burning all at once. “Paddy, you need to drink something, okay?”

“N-no, plea…” The words died in his throat and he shuddered as the flames rolled over him again. Why hadn’t someone put the fire out? He couldn’t breathe he was burning—

Cold fingers tapped the side of his face, feeling incredibly nice and awful all at once. The simple touch sent pain radiating across his skin. Blinking, he felt something hotter run down his face from the corners of his eyes as the world blurred at the same time as it bucked. “Paddy, Paddy, you gotta stay with us, okay?” Weakly, he nodded, feeling the thing from earlier press to his mouth again. “Think you can drink that? I swear it’s water.” His hair was brushed back from his face and he blinked a few times more, swallowing a little bit. It burned his throat. “I know, I know, I’m sorry it hurts. We gotta get this in you, though. Alright, bud?”

Everything wavered from side to side and Paddy sucked in a few too-cold breaths. It was too hot. He was burning, burning, burning…like Bay Hollow. “Who are you?” He forced out the words maybe too loudly or too quietly. At this point, he honestly wasn’t sure. He just…felt weird. Wrong. What happened to his family? Where was his mom? And his brothers and sister and— “ _Who are you?”_

“We’re friends. It’s okay, Paddy, we’re your friends.” Maybe they were, only his friends called him Paddy and they were calling him Paddy so they were…where was he going with…? When did the ceiling get so hard to see?

And when did—

+++

“Paddy?”

Gently, Malark reached over and tapped the wood elf’s face a couple times. He’d been fine seconds before. Well not _fine_ exactly, but he’d been alive and that was something, right? Panting, he looked over at Rook and Torlin, who seemed just as concerned. “He’s getting hotter.”

Paddy’s head was in his lap, eyes squeezed close tightly. Somehow, he’d gotten worse than before. Part of it probably had to do with the fact he was _literally coughing up blood._ The rest of it came from how, even when he did open his eyes, they were glazed over from the fever wracking his body and wandering the ceiling aimlessly. He was looking, but he wasn’t _seeing_ anything. And even if Malark wasn’t looking directly at him, he could _hear_ every single breath. It _sounded_ painful.

Stroking Paddy’s sweat-soaked hair away from his forehead, Malark prayed to any god that existed that he would make it.

“He’s going to be fine, Malark.” Torlin whispered, reaching over to touch his arm. She had taken some of the soaked towels from Rook and was currently laying them across Paddy’s forehead and throat and chest. “I promise.”

At that _exact_ moment, Paddy let out a low groan and started coughing again. This wasn’t like the ones he’d let out when they were trying to treat him first. No, this was like the one right before he’d passed out, the one that left blood dripping down his chin. He wasn’t seizing, thankfully, although for a heart-stopping second Malark thought he was. After a few seconds, Paddy went limp again, eyes rolled back in his head but still breathing…barely.

Silence fell over them for a long while, until Rook finally forced out, “Let’s hope we can get that antidote soon.”

+++

When he woke up, things were quiet, except for a voice in the back of his mind.

Or maybe…it wasn’t in the back of his mind? Was it right in front of him—was that what he was hearing. _Paddy. Paddy, come on._ Blinking, he let his eyes adjust to the dim light of the inn room. Something damp was pressed to his forehead. There were a few more on his neck and chest, and for a brief moment he debated trying to drink from them once he realised they were towels. Sure, it’d taste disgusting, but he could barely move as it was.

_Paddy._

It was another voice, this time, but just as familiar. Shaking, he used the headboard of the bed to haul himself upright. “Who…where are you?” He asked, voice crackling and hoarse and barely passing his lips.

_Come on, Paddy, you know us,_ a teasing voice echoed, and it was like someone dragged him to his feet because suddenly he was standing on shaky legs. _Come on, let’s go for a walk. Put your cloak on._

Nodding, he stumbled over—first to the washbasin, nearly stumbling over someone’s feet and mumbling an apology to them (they muttered something back). After splashing some water in his face and cupping some in his hand to drink it, leaning on the washbasin the whole time to stay upright, he slipped into his shirt. There was something about the movement that tore something on his arm, but he wasn’t sure what and the burning across his cheeks distracted him. “Where…where are we going?” He mumbled, cloak already around his shoulders. Drifting to the side, he leaned shakily against the wall as he stumbled out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

_For a walk, silly,_ a finger touched his nose and he smiled, blinking deliriously and nodding once as he made his way down the hall. There was a woman standing at the inn’s counter, washing a cup, and she watched him curiously. Waving as best he could at her and sending a smile her way, he stumbled out the door and into the dark streets. Cold air washed over him and he shivered, wrapping his cloak around his aching body.

_Come on! This way!_ The first voice he’d heard, one that was familiar in the same aching way that every step sent a spike of pain into the base of his skull, sounded off in his ear. He stumbled over the cobblestones, blinking and drifting to the side and blending in with some of the drunken revellers wandering out of the local tavern from a late nightcap. The conscious part of him checked out at some point, he only really came back to himself when he was surrounded by the smells of rotting foliage, river water, and night air. _You’re so close. Come on, we’ll be together soon! You can come see us, that’s what you wanted, right?_

_Come on, Paddy! We’re all waiting for you!_

_Everything’s going to be fine._ That was a third voice, one he hadn’t heard before. Something about it jarred him from himself for a brief moment, and he felt the ground dipping underneath his feet. _Something was wrong with that voice._ But what?

It took a few moments to hit him.

Blinking, Paddy opened his eyes for real for the first time in a while. _Wait, where am I?_ Glancing around in a panic, he sucked in a breath. He was hot and feverish and—wait, _where was he?_ He’d been in the inn last he checked—what had happened? And who had just been talking to him?

He ran a hand up into his hair ad realised with a shock that his mask wasn’t there. Not only that, his hair was sticky and damp with sweat and— _how did I get out here? I’m sick. And who was—_ the name of the voice’s owner hit him. Frowning, he looked around, “Dad?”

Paddy felt everything around him fade out as his knees buckled, and the last thing he saw was water rushing up to his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all are loved and appreciated and awesome and amazing and I hope you have a nice day! Thanks for reading! Love you!  
> Oh, and this might be my last ao3 fic for a while (again), so…sorry for that, sweethearts.


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